


Undone

by hestia_lacey



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-30
Updated: 2011-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-25 02:31:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hestia_lacey/pseuds/hestia_lacey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Self-indulgent, completely plotless porn. Again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undone

Rodney’s mouth is on his, an insistent and relentless pressure, wet-slip and press of tongue-against-tongue where Rodney licks into him. John lets his lips spread slick and wide, opens up to the movement of Rodney pressing in. He’s pinned to the mattress, Rodney’s hands pushing John’s wrists down into the sheets, creasing the shirt they never got him out of when they fumbled in through the door, shoving at each other, at their clothes like it's been weeks and not hours. Rodney’s knees are pressed to the insides of John’s bare thighs, spreading his legs open.

Mouth to mouth, fingers curling around John’s pulse point, the hard round of Rodney’s knees against his muscles; it feels so fucking good to be held like this, and John can’t help but tip his head back and moan, suck hard on Rodney’s lower lip as his mouth pushes, pushes, pushes at John.

Rodney pulls back a little at that, bites down on reddened smudge of John’s mouth. John’s hips roll up at the sharp slice of teeth over sensitive skin. Only there’s nothing for him to roll into; Rodney’s body is held away from his, and all he can feel is a tease of body heat over the head, the agonising scrape of worn cotton where his shirt-tails brush at the base of his cock.

When he whines, hips hitching up into a desperate curve, Rodney laughs darkly and leans forward to murmur in his ear.

“Just say it, John.”

John gasps at the low rasp of Rodney’s voice, the way it curls into the shell of his ear. His hips twist up again as the sound shudders straight down his spine.

“Say it,” Rodney whispers, close enough that his lips brush at John’s neck. His hands tighten on John’s wrists and then release them; John immediately twists his fingers into the sheets instead, writhing a little as Rodney’s fingers reach for the collar of his still-buttoned shirt, tease at the first fastening.

“Come on, John,” he murmurs, tugging a little at John’s collar and running the palm of his free hand right down the line of buttons to the hem of the shirt, slipping his fingertips just under the hem to brush down the crease between John’s thigh and his crotch. The slight pressure and sliding heat is so, so good, but nothing at all like what he wants.

“Oh Christ,” John pants, tossing his head back on the pillow, screwing his eyes shut.

“Good,” Rodney whispers, breathing a little harder as he slips the first button loose and spreads the neck of John’s shirt open with his thumb and index finger. Leaning forward, he nips at the hollow of John’s throat, presses his other hand flat to the inside of John’s thigh, squeezing at the flex of muscle. John thrusts up again, the crown of his cock just catching on the curve of Rodney’s stomach above him.

“Christ,” he pants again, biting hard at his lower lip; Rodney slips another button free as a reward, scrapes his nails down the inside of John’s leg, back up again, tugging at the hairs.

“Keep going,” Rodney breathes, leaning down to press his lips to the skin he’s bared.

“Rodney,” John pants, and doesn’t know if he means it as can’t or please or anything, yes. With a hitch in his breath like maybe he heard all of those anyway, Rodney tugs at another button, slips his other hand slowly down to cup John’s balls, roll them in his damp palm. John can’t quite stop himself from crying out at that, fisting the sheets, white-knuckled, spreading his thighs as far as they’ll go.

“Say it,” Rodney hisses, tugging at John’s balls then reaching under them, pressing one broad knuckle hard into the flesh between John’s balls and his hole.

There’s no holding back the way he screams then, or the way his body jolts up into Rodney’s at the sensation. Through the sharp rush of pleasure surging up his cock, the ache of his hole clenching tight, John feels the rumble of a moan from Rodney, a yank at his shirt that opens it up right down to his navel. Distantly, he’s aware of the clatter of buttons onto the floor.

“John,” Rodney murmurs, skimming his lips down all the skin he’s opened up, sounding as desperate as John feels, “John,.”

When Rodney reaches John’s navel, he closes his mouth over it and sucks, pressing up again with the knuckle along John’s perineum, working it there in a slow rhythm. John’s mouth falls open, and he can’t, he can’t, except, except –

Rodney moans, dips his tongue into John’s bellybutton even as he sucks harder on the skin – his fingers catch on the final button of John’s shirt, and John can’t not anymore, overwhelmed by the vibration of Rodney’s pleasure under his skin, the heat that’s winding up his spine.

“Rodney,” he says, untangling his hands from the sheets and fitting them to the curve of Rodney’s skull, pushing slightly. “Rodney, please. Just - please. I need – I want – “

As the words stumble out, the fingers on John’s shirt work clumsily to free the last button; John pants in relief and anticipation as Rodney brings both hands up to hold John’s hips, drag him forward so his ass is cradled in Rodney’s lap, legs hooked over the bend of Rodney’s elbows. Rodney’s dips his head, breathes over the tip of John’s cock.

John is breathing hard, sweat pooling sticky at the base of his spine, along his shoulder blades where they press into the blankets. He wants so badly, tilting his hips as much as he can, pushing himself into Rodney’s lap, up towards his mouth.

Only Rodney stops. He stops, mouth open and breath washing warm over John’s cock. John whines, high and frantic, not caring how he sounds or how he must look, sprawled out and almost naked under another man, panting for him, because it’s Rodney, and right now that’s all John can think.

“Say it,” Rodney says, lips brushing at the slick, purpled head of John’s dick. John doesn’t hear the words so much as feel the shape of them.

“Just – Rodney just – “ John moans, opening his eyes and looking down the line of his own body to where Rodney is between his thighs, holding him open.

Rodney looks up as John looks down – John feels like his heart stops beating at the dark, covetous look in Rodney’s eyes, the picture he makes with his mouth so close to John’s cock. “Say. It.” Rodney demands, holding John’s gaze with hot blue, dipping his tongue into the slit of John’s cock between the words.

John’s toes curl, vision greying, and he isn’t conscious of making the decision to talk – when he comes back to himself, it’s to the sound of his own voice, the vibration of it utterly foreign to him, scratched up with need and grating out between them, cracking with heat.

“Do it. Do it, Rodney. S-suck me. I want – your mouth, your mouth on me, I want - fuck me like that, Rodney, use your mouth to, to - fuck me.”

He’s barely finished begging and Rodney’s mouth slides down, takes him in, slick and incredibly, impossibly hot over John’s cock; one long, slow slip downward, lips pulled in tight around the length of him until Rodney’s nosing at John’s pubic hair and the slick crown of John’s cock is nudging at the back of Rodney’s throat. John’s fingers wind into Rodney’s hair as best they can, tightening as pleasure pulls at John’s muscles.

“Like that,” John pants, as Rodney pulls back again, inch by tortuous inch, sucking hard. He flicks his tongue around the head then sinks down again, swallowing and fluttering his throat around John’s cock. Rodney pulls up again, dips down, swallows, rhythmic and slow and John can’t stand how good he feels, the pleasure this is wringing out of him.

“Feels,” John mutters, slipping one palm down to cup Rodney’s cheek, feeling stubble fizz against his palm, “Rodney, it feels - “ he breathes, pushing up without meaning too.

Rodney makes a choked sound around him then, but doesn’t pull back; instead, he shuffles awkwardly on the bed, pushes one of John’s legs up against John’s chest so he can free his hand, move it down between his own legs.

As he jacks himself, he moans around John’s cock, swallowing hard and it’s all John can take – with a sharp jerk upwards, John is shocked into orgasm, shuddering through his release, mouth panting open as his vision sparks out, mouthing “coming, I’m – Rodney, I’m – “even as Rodney swallows him down, as he pulls back to lick at the crown, lets a little semen drip out onto John’s stomach.

As John shakes through the last of his orgasm, dazed and grasping weakly at Rodney’s hands, his shoulders as he shifts up, Rodney awkwardly straddles his waist, presses himself down to rub his own cock hard against the mess he left on John’s stomach.

John’s too wrung-out with his own satisfaction to do more than lie back, frame Rodney’s body loosely with his upraised knees. Rodney groans, presses his forehead to John’s shoulder and catches John’s legs under the knees, splaying them wide as he thrusts. It’s only when Rodney starts to come, semen spattering up John’s chest that John realises he’s been talking, pleasure-slurred into Rodney’s ear: “fuck, Rodney. Fucking me, you – your mouth and now, now your cock and I want – I want you to come, come on me, come. Come.”

Rodney hitches an uneven breath into John's skin, trembles slightly, then bites down on the line of John’s shoulder, groaning long into the flesh. His body goes rigid over John’s then loosens, hips stuttering to a stop against John’s.

When Rodney’s breathing levels out a little, he shifts himself to the side and sprawls out half over John, arm thrown over his chest as they come back to themselves. John turns his head to find Rodney looking up at him, face flushed and eyes still dark with pleasure.

When Rodney smiles at him, John blushes.

Rodney laughs again, breathless this time, and murmurs into the damp of John’s shoulder. “Now? You pick now to blush?”

John feels the flush on his cheeks deepen even further and tries not to pout. He doesn’t do very well; Rodney laughs again, then leans over to press a soft, gentle kiss to John’s lips.

John falls asleep with Rodney's smile pressed to his, losing himself to sleep between kisses.


End file.
